Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related entities are not mine; I just like playing with them sometimes.
A/N: Mostly this is not meant to be taken seriously; I felt like writing in-character H/D from Draco's POV for once, and then found inspiration in Hermione's line in the GoF movie about not being an owl. So, I bid you read, laugh, and review, if you feel like it...but have a laugh, mostly. That's what this is here for.
Draco Malfoy liked many things. The color green, for example – he was incredibly fond of the color green. According to his mother, he looked especially lovely in green, and there could be nothing wrong with that. On another level, as a fifth-year Slytherin Prefect, so many new doors were open to him, and he liked it that way. He also liked velvet, and leather pants, and captivating the entire Slytherin Common Room with the debate of, "Who will Malfoy be doing this week, Parkinson or Zabini? Discuss."
He liked Pansy and Blaise too. Both of them were unspeakably attractive little Pureblooded Slytherins, and they both enjoyed his company…even if Blaise was loath to act like it. Draco would occasionally note that he was also loath to admit his frequent ogling of Ginny bloody Weasley's arse as well, but that would usually exile him from Blaise's bed for at least a few days. But Blaise always came around in the end. It wasn't love, but it was honest lust, and that was close enough for Draco. Lust was another thing that he liked, whether he was giving or recieving it.
One thing that Draco did not like was Mudblood scum. Furthermore, he especially hated a particular bit of Mudblood scum named Hermione Granger. Luckily, the feeling was entirely mutual.
And still the little skank was still approaching him in the library for no apparent reason.
She did look distraught, he had to note with glee. Her feet turned in awkwardly and she seemed to be wringing her hands behind her back. From the front, she was chewing her lower lip in an entirely unbecoming fashion and her bushy hair was fighting tooth and nail against the restraining bun she had put it in.
"What do you want, Granger?" He snapped, glaring at her from the bookshelf he was looking through.
"I have a message for you," she sighed.
"Well it can't bloody well be important, or else it would have been sent to me privately."
"On the contrary, the sender seems to think it's of the greatest importance."
"Alright then, Granger, I'll humor you. What did some fool ask you to tell me?"
She took a deep breath, then quickly recited: "Ronald told me, that Ginny told him, that Seamus told her, that Parvati told him, that Dean told her, that Neville told him, that Harry says that there is a…party in his pants, and that you're invited."
Draco blinked, utterly lost. "Run that by me again, please?"
"Ronald told me, that Ginny told him, that Seamus told her, that Parvati- oh this is useless."
"For once, we agree on something."
"Look, Harry says that there's a party in his pants and you're invited."
Draco actually felt his cheeks flush pink. The very suggestion him being invited to any sort of party anywhere where Potter would be was ludicrous to begin with, but…a party in Potter's pants? What the hell was he playing at, having Granger come make such lewd propositions for him? Draco scoffed and reconsidered this for himself. Regardless of whether or not Potter was gay, he was still attracted to the saucy blond charms of Draco Malfoy the Unspeakably Hot. He was so attracted to the Slytherin, in fact, that he couldn't even bring himself to admit it to anyone but Longbottom. It was probably meant to be a secret, but, naturally, Longbottom had messed it up. And why was this so? Because Draco was just too hot for his own good, that's why.
But, all the same – he couldn't let this smarmy little Mudblood know how satisfied he was with this.
"Well, you can tell Potter-"
"No!" She huffed, apparently enraged by the fact that she was being used as a human owl. "If you want to tell Harry anything, you can do it yourself! Merlin knows, I'm used enough to send messages around Gryffindor; I hardly need to start sending them for Slytherins too."
"Because I'm really going to walk up to Potter and ask him about the so-called 'party in his pants.'"
She cast a look over one shoulder, and then returned to him. "There's no need. Here he is."
Draco stared at the Mudblood scum incredulously. She merely smirked, very satisfied with herself, and walked away quickly, probably to do homework or otherwise be responsible. In her place came that blasted Potter brat, with his dark hair and clothes looking equally unkempt. He'd seemed perfectly unstable since the Hogwarts Express on September first…maybe he'd been off sleeping in the Forbidden Forest. According to rumor, the centaurs liked him enough to not kill him. He looked at Draco only once before lowering his eyes to the floor.
"So," he huffed.
"So…" Draco sighed.
"Just know that I still hate you."
"Likewise, Potter, but…pray tell, when does the party start?"